“Where have you been? O Jakey, dear! Why didn’t you come before? Oh! when you children went away My heart was awful sore.” “Why, mammy, I’ve been on your hunt Since ever I’ve been free, And I have heard from brother Ben,— He’s down in Tennessee. “He wrote me that he had a wife.” “And children?” “Yes, he’s three.” “You married, too?” “Oh no, indeed, I thought I’d first get free.” “Then, Jakey, you will stay with me, And comfort my poor heart; Old Mistus got no power now To tear us both apart. “I’m richer now than Mistus, Because I have got my son; And Mister Thomas he is dead, And she’s got nary one. “You must write to brother Benny That he must come this fall, And we’ll make the cabin bigger, And that will hold us all. “Tell him I want to see ’em all Before my life do cease: And then, like good old Simeon, I hope to die in peace.” “I THIRST.” FIRST VOICE. I thirst, but earth cannot allay The fever coursing through my veins, The healing stream is far away— It flows through Salem’s lovely plains. The murmurs of its crystal flow Break ever o’er this world of strife; My heart is weary, let me go, To bathe it in the stream of life; For many worn and weary hearts Have bathed in this pure healing stream, And felt their griefs and cares depart, E’en like some sad forgotten dream. SECOND VOICE. “The Word is nigh thee, even in thy heart.” Say not, within thy weary heart, Who shall ascend above, To bring unto thy fever’d lips The fount of joy and love. Nor do thou seek to vainly delve Where death’s pale angels tread, To hear the murmur of its flow Around the silent dead. Within, in thee is one living fount, Fed from the springs above; There quench thy thirst till thou shalt bathe In God’s own sea of love. THE DYING QUEEN. “I would meet death awake.” The strength that bore her on for years Was ebbing fast away, And o’er the pale and life-worn face, Death’s solemn shadows lay.